take care of yourself
by lookattheflowers
Summary: And when you finally get your chance to leave, you find a reason to stay. An alternate ending for a perfectly imperfect character.


**Author's note: **I was forced to watch Gattaca in biology and ended up falling in love with it, only I was left devastated with the way it ended. So like most of the shows/movies I watch, I decided to completely ignore canon and write what I think _should_ have happened.

* * *

**'…And when you finally get your chance to leave, you find a reason to stay' **

It was better this way. Leaving the past in the past. After all, one man's failure is another man's success. You'd done your part, fulfilled your purpose so that somebody else could fulfill theirs. You weren't needed now.

Vincent made a greater Jerome than you could ever be and in a way, you're grateful to him. He became everything you should have been and more.

Guess that leaves you second place on the podium again, Eugene.

Couldn't even succeed at being yourself. Isn't that a disappointing thought?

_I'm proud of you Vincent._

And really, you were. Maybe even a bit jealous. Of all people, a degenerate worked his way from the ground and up. All the way to the stars. He was living his dream while you were left prisoner in your own home.

_I'm traveling too._

The words sounded so simple. Only you knew the actual meaning behind them. You were sure Vincent was none the wiser when he walked out. If he knew you were going to kill yourself he never would have left. That was the difference between the two of you. "Always so damn noble." A smile tugs at your lips.

You wheel yourself to the incinerator where Vincent would burn every trace of himself to become you. The genetically superior Jerome Eugene Marrow. Someone that people would respect and look up to; not look down on with unwanted sympathy, seeing only a waste of potential. Because that's all you were now and you hated yourself for it. You were never supposed to get this way. You were born a winner, a champion. Now look how far you've strayed from that.

Your hands lingers on the door latch, the metal chilling your skin like cruel irony of what's to come. But you're ready to die. You have been for a long time.

When you finally open it you're more than eager to climb in. And you would have if it weren't for a piece of paper taped to the inside. _Odd_. You think, reaching for it. The writing is all too familiar. Identical to yours, but not quite.

_ Eugene,_

_ Drinks are on me when I get back._

_ I look forward to telling you all about my trip._

_Take care of yourself,_

_Vincent_

"You bastard."

He knew. All along he knew you were struggling. You don't remember that night the both of you went for a drink, when you told him about the accident, he never stopped thinking about it.

If at first you don't succeed...Try, try again. But the only person you've been competing with was yourself. How could you hate someone so much, but admire them all the same. How dare Vincent take your identity but at the same time you can't thank him enough for saving you from yourself.

This was his subtle way of asking you to stay. Because your realize for the first time that for some reason he needs you just as much as you need him. _The man would be completely lost without me, wouldn't he?_ It's an exaggeration, but a damn well earned one.

You re-read the letter over and over again in your head, carefully folding it and tucking it away in your suit pocket. The paper crumbles against something and all at once you remember, nearly forgot it was there. Unsteady hands dig through the material until you feel the heavy weight of metal, pulling out the old silver medallion. The burden you've carried with you all this time, feeling the tonnage that once symbolized your downfall, now a mere piece of scrap metal. It's funny, really. Somehow it feels lighter.

You clutch it in your hand until your knuckles turn white, take one last look at it, then toss it into the furnace and press the button. The flames engulf it but you don't take the time to watch it burn.

The only thing left on your mind is what you're going to do for the next year.


End file.
